


Losing Sleep and Missing You

by orphan_account



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I can't believe those are tags, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, M/M, Pre-POF, Pre-Relationship, Slightly - Freeform, Swearing, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, they're just being soft idk what to tell you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Virgil couldn't sleep, which was odd.What was even more odd was who he ran into at two in the morning, but maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 29
Kudos: 152





	Losing Sleep and Missing You

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't been feeling too spicy, so have some self-indulgent soft anxceit! The anxceit tag needs more healthy relationships and I live to serve.

Virgil hated Deceit. Deceit hated Virgil. This was a comforting lack of dichotomy, a stable truth in unbalanced lives. Sometimes their fighting was playful, almost flirting, sometimes it was biting and fierce, but it was always present.

Logan had once asked Virgil why they clashed so often. He’d said something about ‘both being facets of self preservation’, Virgil had said something about ‘that’s a shit take, teach’, and neither of them had left that interaction happy. The anxious side knew that Logan still wondered, but it was too hard to explain. Yes, at a point they were the best of friends (maybe more, if Thomas wasn’t so repressed at the time), but things change. There’s just no way to explain to somebody the pain of finally having your dream come true, then to be turned away by the only people he wanted to share it with. His old friends. Janus. He’d pleaded, Thomas would understand if he explained, he just knew, but the scaled side hadn’t listened. He’d closed the door on Virgil when he needed him the most.

They’d dreamed about being accepted together, once. Virgil would come back from one of his escapades with the lights, and he would tell Janus about what was happening- ‘Patton and Roman lie to themselves all the time, and thats like, your thing! They’ll love you!’ Janus would raise an eyebrow and ask, ‘What about Logan? Mr. Facts-and-Statistics would surely  _ adore _ having me around.’ Virgil had looked him in the eyes, dead serious, and said- with all the tact in the world- ‘You’re both nerds, it’ll be fine.’

The pillow fight after that was a thing of legend.

Of course it had all been an act. Janus never thought he would be accepted, had led Virgil on, and why? To this day he didn’t know.

So yes, they hated each other. Because it’s easier to hate somebody than to open yourself up. 

Because it’s easier to lie.

Sometimes, though. Sometimes there would be nobody else around, and they wouldn’t exchange a single word or hiss. Sometimes Janus would look like he was about to reach out, then hunch his entire body to disguise the aborted motion. Sometimes Virgil’s fingers itched to steal Janus’ hat and put it on again, making fun of his drawling accent and love for wordplay- ‘What’s up, I’m Janus, and the only thing that’s smaller than my conscience is my d-’.

Sometimes they’d just sit. They both wanted to move closer, but the space between them was no-man’s-land of broken promises.

  
  
  
  
  


Virgil, contrary to popular belief, was very good at sleeping. It was his passion, his muse, and most of all- the one time where he didn’t have to be anxious. Hiding under the covers at nine in the evening until seven in the morning, he could pretend nothing would ever hurt him or Thomas again.

Which was why it was so alarming to be unable to sleep. He’d tossed and turned for- how long had it been? A quick glance at his clock revealed the time to be two AM. Amazing. Virgil’s head felt like it was filled with cement, his eyes burned from any slightest bit of light, and he knew his skin must be worse off than that of a melting snowman. It would even be okay if tonight (this morning) was a fluke- he’d had those before, Logan said they were normal. In reality, however, he just couldn’t keep the bloodthirsty vultures of his memories to stay quiet for even a second.

‘Because I was one of them.’

Thomas had looked shocked, then confused, then worst of all, betrayed. His center, the person he had spent his entire life trying to protect. Thomas didn’t trust him anymore, and he was the only one to blame. Why did he have to out himself? After years of keeping his past a secret between nobody except the one person that mattered- he’d thrown it all away. Idiot.

Virgil rolled over again, trying fruitlessly to find a position convoluted enough to force the thoughts out of his head. His pillow was grossly warm, his sheets itched, and he was desperately, invasively, thirsty.

With a long-suffering groan, Virgil rolled out of his bed and flopped onto the floor. For a few minutes he seriously considered staying there- at least the cold hardwood might distract him- but the need to hydrate won in the end. He dragged himself up. Why was standing so difficult? Was he coming down with something? He should check his blood pressure.

No, that’s right, he wasn’t sick. It was just  _ two in the fucking morning  _ and Virgil did not have the time nor energy to be dealing with gravity’s bullshit. By some miracle of fate, he did manage to get himself out his bedroom door and towards the kitchen. Just a drink of water, maybe a snack, and his mind would (hopefully, finally) let him sleep.

Once again, the mental mini-movie of Thomas’ face falling replayed. Virgil shook his head once, sharply, and continued on his mission towards the kitchen.

He was so caught up in definitely-not-thinking-about-it that he barely noticed the light on when he walked in. In his defense, there was only one lamp lit, sending an eerie glow over the Mindscape’s kitchen from the far corner. That meant that all the shadows pointed directly towards Virgil, and usually it wouldn’t bother him so much, but in this exhausted state the old fear of the dark (and shadows, and anything that moved) was coming back. Speaking of things that moved, who the hell was in the kitchen at this hour? Logan was adamant with his circadian rhythm propaganda, Roman insisted he needed lots of beauty sleep, Patton slept like an actual dad, and Remus didn’t exactly eat food. Which meant-

Janus’ one slitted eye was like a brand on Virgil’s tired form. He’d half-turned when Virgil had entered the room, and was now waiting with one raised eyebrow. For a long moment, all he could do was stare- he hadn’t seen Janus like this in so long. Not covered by layers of pretense, not smirking and hiding away, just standing there with hat askew and few layers. The dim light cast his skin in a warm glow, and for a second Virgil thought he was dreaming.

But no- this was real. Virgil tore his eyes away from Janus’ face and focused hard on the floor.

“Hey.”  _ Hey? Really? How eloquent, even Roman would be in awe. _ Virgil mentally slapped himself.  _ What was he thinking? _

With all this internal turmoil, however, he’d failed to notice that Janus was moving until he was almost out of the room. “Apologies, Virgil. I never meant to intrude upon your stumbling- I shall take my leave.”

Part of Virgil was relieved. The snake-faced bastard was leaving without a fight, whispered the voice; this was what he’d always wished would happen. That voice sounded bitter. He’d been listening to that voice for years now. Mostly, on the other hand, Virgil was exhausted. He was tired of losing the light side’s support again, after all this time. He was tired of thinking about Thomas. He wanted somebody on his team, for once.

So, against all better judgement, Virgil called after his old friend. “There’s room in here for both of us, Jay. You don’t need to go.”

Briefly, Janus’ head whipped towards the emo. His eyes widened but quickly shuttered again, looking away. Virgil could have sworn that he saw the shadow of a smile quickly erased. Janus turned on his heel and strode back towards the counter where he’d been standing before. Virgil entered the room in his wake, beelining for the sink and filling a large cup.

They were left in an awkward silence. Virgil sipped on his water as slowly as possible, trying to figure out what Janus could possibly be doing, and the other was studiously ignoring him. This lasted for several agonizing minutes, before Virgil finally broke.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What the fuck are you trying to do?” Janus was searching through the shelves and cupboards, grabbing way more food than he could possibly expect to eat in one sitting, and shoving it all into the endless pockets of the cloak he wore. Virgil deliriously thought he looked a lot like a kangaroo, except without a child in his pouch. Could a person fit in there?

A snort from the snake caught his attention again. “What does it look like? Radicalizing the youth to anarchy, drug use- perhaps even homosexuality! My agendas are unlimited and unstoppable.” Virgil gazed at Janus for a few moments, then leaned his forehead against the wall. It was cool, simple, and grounded him. 

“Jesus, I can’t deal with your shit right now.”

“Praying, Virgil? You know, I hear god is dead nowadays. You’re so nihilistic; I’d expect you to go the full mile. Nietzsche did have some interesting ideas, all things considered-”

“Did you not catch the part where I cannot deal with this right now?” Virgil punctuated the last words with knocks of his head against the wall. “I just want to know why you’re stealing our” he squinted at the jar in Janus’ hand “mixed nuts, for some reason. You don’t even like pistachios.”

“And you know that how?” Janus snapped, before visibly collecting himself. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. If you must know, I’m simply getting myself food. As you can see, with those overly accented eyes of yours.”

Virgil squinted. “You- you literally have an entire milk jug under your arm.”

“Strong bones, dearest.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll have to pass on that one, though I can call up Remus if you’re so eager.” Despite his casual tone, Virgil could see Janus shiver at the name, and for once he didn’t blame him. Remus didn’t mean to be the way he was, he really did try… but a creative side being repressed as much as the Duke was wasn’t exactly a solution at equilibrium. Especially not with his darker tendencies. That- actually, that might explain Janus’ presence.

“Is that why you’re here? Is Remus pulling something in the kitchen down there?”

Janus shifted, and Virgil knew he’d struck the truth. “The dark sides aren’t the most understanding, when it comes to my more preservative habits.”

“Like… eating? I’m pretty sure they were still eating food when I was there, even if it wasn’t always the most wholesome stuff.”

“Having half of our self preservation up and vanish didn’t do wonders for Green and Orange, shockingly. Now, I really should be on my way, unless you intend to keep interrogating me. This jug of milk won’t be chugging itself.”

“Alright, hold up.” Virgil strode forwards, and without thinking, grabbed Janus’ arm. “You are not leaving it there. Do you get any food that isn’t from here? Do you even leave your room? Yel- Jan- Deceit. How long have you been stealing from us?”

For a second, Virgil thought Janus was going to pull away again, stride back to the unconscious with a ridiculously bulging cloak full of secrets. Somehow, that seemed unbearable, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He tightened his grip, and  _ finally _ , Janus faced him. His arms were still plastered to his sides, but at least he wasn’t actively running away.

“So?” Virgil met his rival’s eyes with a challenge, refusing to let go. Not this time. “Got anything to say for yourself?” Janus stared at him. He wasn’t smirking, had no mischievous glint in his eye; he just looked scared, and  _ that _ unsettled Virgil more than anything else in this strange ordeal.

“Yes.” The snake uncoiled. He walked back into the kitchen and set most of his load back on the counter. “I’ve been stealing for years. Which, might I add, Bookchin would have no problem with.”

“And the others?”

“I speak to Remus! Even our Orange sweetheart is sometimes up for conversation. I’ve had some wonderful times with the both of them since you left. Maybe not more recently, but that’s to be expected, issn’t it? They both wanted that callback more than life itsself.” Janus defended, lisp showing through. Virgil arched an eyebrow; was he trying to be this obvious, or was the snake just as tired as he himself?

“This sounds like a really convoluted and boring way of saying that you haven’t left your room in months except to come here and try to talk to Remus.”

“...If you must put it so crudely.”

“Okay, then…” Janus put a finger in front of Virgil’s face. He bristled, but quieted down.

“Ah ah ah- you wanted the full story, you’re getting the full story. I’ve tried cooking things down there, but the oven is constantly at several thousand degrees. Celsius. I’ve tried making salads, but everything rots. Everything! I’ve tried getting the three of us together for movie nights, like you all up here seem to enjoy so much- Orange blinded me and Green for weeks.” Janus’ tone was calm, even joking, but his hands shook beneath the bright gloves. “Speaking of those movie nights- if you all could stop falling asleep in the living room, that would be positively marvelous. I do run out of food, you know.”

Janus cut off his rant abruptly, clenching and unclenching his fists. For a moment, he held onto the bravado Virgil knew him for, before deflating visibly. “But I chose this, didn’t I? Stirner was an idealist- our egos can’t always be pleased, and that’s simply the way of things.”

Virgil watched him. His mind was reeling. Sure, he knew things would be bad in his old home, but this? Something in his stomach twinged. Was this his fault?

Logan’s voice sounded through his mind: cognitive distortions. Virgil’s mind was overestimating his role in Janus’ situation. After all, he couldn’t be expected to keep the others under control for his entire life, right? He had a center to take care of, and friends on this side. This side. He left Janus behind, he swore to never rebuild the bridge. He had rules.

Virgil looked at his once-friend, bent and gaunt, and decided he’d always hated rules anyway.

Silence rang in the air as Virgil grabbed an armful of the food in Janus’ arms. It turned out to be some jerky, bread, and jam, which he reasoned was as good a combination as any. He summoned a knife, too tired to walk across the kitchen and actually get one, and began spreading the jelly on two pieces of bread. He worked rhythmically, and was reaching for the meat, when he was interrupted.

“Are you making- a sandwich? Whatever that is?” Janus looked so confused Virgil wanted to take a picture. It wasn’t often that he got to see the smug grin the snake usually wore gaping open, and it was  ~~ cute  endearing ~~ hilarious.

Looking down at his creation, Virgil had to admit it wasn’t the most conventional snack. The jam covered bread was folded in two, around various types of meat jerky. “Dude, this is the stuff I eat. You’re going to have to deal with it if you want to do this. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s all ‘har dar fuck societal norms’? I would’ve thought you’d love this kind of subversion.”

“As much as I usually detest arbitrary standards, I do have some maxims. Though,” Janus took a bite, looking thoughtful “I may be open to adding a few. This isn’t half bad, for an blight upon the good name of food.”

“See, told you.”

Janus looked so caught up in the joy of food that Virgil could see when the realization hit. “Wait. Do this? What precisely are we doing?” His shoulders stiffened. “I’m not precisely in the state for anything physical right now. I hope you understand.”

Virgil squinted. “I’m not going to fight you. Physically or mentally. Unless you plan on continuing being bitch, in which case square up I guess. I’m just talking about this polite meal we’re sharing.” Ignoring Janus’ mutterings of ‘polite in the way a falling hippopotamus is polite’, Virgil grabbed their shared plate and headed towards the couch. He threw over his shoulder “A meal that will be happening sitting down, because I think my knees are about to give out.” He flopped down right along the center of the couch and sighed in relief.

“Fair enough.” Janus acquiesced, after a long few seconds of glancing in confusion between Virgil, the food, and the couch. “Move over.”

“Mmake me.” The anxious side’s body was quickly remembering why lying down had been such a good idea. Why had he tried to stay awake? It must have been some ungodly hour. His eyes drifted closed and his grip on the plate loosened. Virgil was almost completely gone, when suddenly, the couch disappeared. 

Wait, scratch that- the couch was replaced by four sleeved arms, as Janus lifted him bodily from the cushions. There was a sparkle in his eye, a smirk, and a fifth arm was lifting the plate of food away, while the others dropped Virgil unceremoniously in the corner of the couch. 

“Gladly, dearest.” Janus drawled, flopping down next to and smirking broadly at the offended expression on the unseated side’s face. “Hey now- you did challenge me. I simply meant to fulfill a duty.”

Virgil sent the other side a venomous glare, and reached for his half-eaten sandwich. “You’re going to pay for that, snake.”

“How s-” Janus was cut off by Virgil dropping the murderous expression and reaching up, snatching his hat in one fluid motion. He threw it like a frisbee across the room, where it ended up perched on the edge of the TV. “Alright, then, I suppose that’s reasonable.”

“Damn gay it is.” Virgil chuckled lowly. He looked up at Janus, who had somehow already managed to sprawl over the remaining three quarters of the couch. With his hat off, he looked so human it stole the air from Virgil’s lungs- his hair hung over his face, not in a straight fringe, but slightly curly and bouncy. The sudden urge rose up to brush that hair away. Virgil spoke without thinking.

“You know, you can just join us for meals.”

“W-what?” The smile on Janus’ face dropped, leaving a mix of shock and apprehension. “I- I don’t- the others won’t want me there, Virgil, you know that. You don’t even want me here, outside of,” he gestures at the room, at the unresolved tension hanging in the air, and he doesn’t need to elaborate. This meeting was just a shadow of their old friendship, and they both knew it couldn’t last. “ outside of this.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Virgil held eye contact for as long as he could, before dropping his gaze. “But maybe I can work on that.”

The look on Janus’ face was something like hope. “And why would you do that?”

“Because I miss you.” Virgil said, and it’s simple and clear, and leaves no room for doubt. “I miss talking, De- Jan. I miss taking on the other sides together. I miss arguing about different ways Thomas could have handled a situation, while still acknowledging that even though your strategies were stupid and unnecesary, they were still better than anything anybody else could come up with.

“I miss doing stuff with you. I miss making tier lists of disney villain songs. I miss Halloween- fuck, I miss Halloween with you so much. Did you know the Lights barely celebrate it? Just costumes, which they barely spend any time on, then that’s it. No movie marathon, no stupid DIY games, nothing.”

As Virgil ranted, he unconsciously sat up more and more, until he was perched directly next to Janus’ lazy form. He was gazing off into the distance, trancelike, until his train of thought ended and he became aware of just how vulnerable he’d just made himself.

“Or, y’now, you don’t have to come. If you want to keep stealing from here I won’t rat you out, or anything like that.” Virgil mumbled, looked down at his old friend- hat missing and gloves askew- and his hands clenched with the effort of not reaching out. Stay back, his mind shouted, but there was an aching in his chest that was an spike anchoring him to the couch. A small smile graced Janus’ features, and the hold loosened.

  
“I don’t see how I could do anything but decline. After all, I adore our current arrangement, regarding both my eating habits and my…” He looked down “My relationship with you… all. It wouldn’t be an honor to see Morality and Passion’s faces.”

“I’m not just doing this to mess with them. I want you to be happy too, even if you are a bastard.”

“I get it, you’re on the edge of confessing your undying love for me and all that-”

“Fat chance-”

“I  _ know _ , Virgil, it was a hypothetical. Thought you were supposed to know all about those. In any case, I would be glad to earn back your friendship. Honestly.” The snake held the spider’s gaze, and it was sincere. Virgil made a decision.

“You know what? I’ll step out of the next video.”

“What? Don’t duck out again-”

“No, not like that. But I don’t think Thomas is going to want to see me right now anyway,” (‘because I was one of them’, his thoughts whispered) “and things are going to be awful after what happened at the wedding. Not an amazing place for the personification of anxiety to be. You can work your debating magic and get them on your side. Things would be complicated if I was there, we both know that. So I’ll step away for a video or two, and you do your thing.”

“That’s… thank you, Virgil. That means a lot.”

There was a long silence. They were at a fragile peace, more amiable than in years, when- “Truth, ugh. Tastes like mushy apples.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Virgil imitated Janus’ move from earlier, scooping him up and flipping him onto his face. Only, despite spiders supposedly being arachnids, he only had two rather flimsy arms, and he ended up slightly on top of the snake, whose face was half-squished into the pillows. They let out simultaneous ‘ngh’s, and Virgil really meant to shoot up and act like that was intentional. He did. But at that moment, his traitorous body decided to remind him just how bone-crushingly tired he was. Whoever designed Janus’ cloak was amazing at their job, because ithe material was unrealistically soft. It felt like an embrace in all the best ways, and he could just lie there forever...

Shit. Nope, hell no. One does not just fall asleep  cuddling with lying on top of their nemesis. Former nemesis. Of about five minutes, that was still too close, right? He should probably be moving now. He should lift his arms (whenever they got around to, you know, actually doing that would be great), sit up, and pretend this never happened. He could just excuse it by saying he was tired, and-

All rational thought flew out the window, as Janus laughed softly and began to hum. Virgil could feel it through his entire body, and all tension melted away. Nothing should be allowed to be that soothing, and yet it was. Vaguely, he felt Janus turn over and move them into a more comfortable position. Whatever his head was against now, it was even softer, and the small part of his brain that was still rational said that that was probably hair. Was hair usually that fluffy? He couldn’t remember, but probably not, because he would know if he’d ever gotten to touch something so amazing.

Gloves rubbed his back. At some point they might have been replaced by alternating smooth and knobbly bare hands, but nobody had to mention that. Virgil’s overworked and exhausted brain tried to come up with something, anything to say-

“‘T really sucked when I left, you know. Y’were spos’t to come with me.”

The hands stuttered, then kept moving in circles. He must have said the wrong thing. Oh well, he’d deal with it in the morning. The later morning, that is.

“They wouldn’t have accepted you then, Virgil. Not if I was there. Thomas needed to accept you, and you needed it too. I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“Bullshit.” Virgil mumbled, losing his last grip on reality. Everything was soft and warm, and he was surrounded by the scent of his childhood, so he could deal with whatever lies Jan had just spat out later. 

Asleep, Virgil couldn’t have known about the tears tracking silently down the face of the side holding him, or the soft ‘I missed you too’ that was mumbled into his chest, or how he was holding him tightly as if worried that Virgil would disappear at any moment. Even so, if his sleeping form gripped the other a little more, that could be chalked up to nothing more than a strange dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos make me happy, comments make me ecstatic, concrit makes me lumiscent. And by that, I mean I begin to glow like that one pale dude from those vampire books. Wouldn't that be cool?


End file.
